Dear Santa
by darveyscactus
Summary: Written as a part of Darvey Secret Santa 2018! (adarveydecember on Twitter) Harvey finds an old letter to Santa from Donna, age 12, and decides to tick off each item on it.


Harvey sank into the corner of his couch and swirled the glass of scotch in his hand. He looked down again at the piece of paper resting on his leg and couldn't help but smile. He knew he probably shouldn't have taken it, but when he found it stuffed inside one of her dad's old journals, he couldn't help himself. The little red head who had written the letter was different from the Donna he knew now, a little broken and a bit insecure, but the Donna of today still shown through. He looked down to read the letter again as he thought about the events of the past several weeks that had led him to find it in the first place.

Dear Santa,

I'm not sure I believe in you anymore, now that I'm 12, but things have been pretty bad at my house lately so it's nice to believe in something good. I made a list of things I'd like to happen this year. They don't have to all come at Christmas, but if they could all happen before _next_ Christmas, that'd make me really happy.

A dog that can go back and forth between mom and dad's house

New sheet music for the piano at school

To like the taste of coffee because that's what adults drink, and maybe a pretty coffee mug to drink it out of

Tickets to a broadway play and a fancy dress to wear to the show

My first kiss; from a boy I really like

I hope you have a great Christmas!

Donna

They'd been in her living room going through boxes from her dad's old office. Donna was looking for some childhood photos she wanted to get framed to give her sisters for Christmas. She never did find the photos though, because as they went through the boxes, she kept finding other things that brought back happy memories and excitedly launched into story after story about her childhood.

Harvey loved it. He loved learning more about Donna's childhood, and loved that she was able to find so much joy in it despite her dad's financial troubles and her parents' divorce. He loved spending time with her away from the office and in a more relaxed environment, but mostly he loved seeing her smile and hearing her laugh. It'd been awhile since he'd seen her genuinely happy, and he was glad that he was at least partially responsible.

On top of everything else that was going on at the firm - name changes, office politics, dramatic cases - he knew she and Thomas had broken up. He didn't know the specifics and she hadn't actually told him, but he knew it happened about a month ago - right before she was supposed to spend Thanksgiving with his family. She came into work on a Saturday - which was his first indication something was off, since she'd been doing a good job of keeping her work week to five days in an effort to spend more time with Thomas - and everything about her just seemed sad. She'd lost that swing in her step, her face looked heavy, and it looked like it caused her physical pain to smile. She'd stayed like that for about a week - a shell of the woman that Harvey knew and loved, and took everything he had to not walk into her office, wrap her in his arms, and soothe her until she smiled.

Louis later confirmed his suspicions; they'd broken up and it'd been a bad one. Weeks worth of fights, yelling, and tears before she finally cut the cord and walked away. Apparently he'd said some pretty hurtful things during their fights, so on top of the sadness of the breakup, Donna was reeling from how deep his words had cut into her. Hearing all this only strengthened Harvey's urge to comfort her any way he could after, of course, finding Kessler and beating the shit out of him.

Of course, he'd discussed Donna's breakup in a session with Dr. Lipschitz - it was a new normal for him, talking about the things that were taking up significant portions of his thoughts. At this point, Lipschitz knew so much of what was going on at the firm that he may as well be a Partner himself. They'd talked about Donna here and there, but when he told him about the breakup, Lipschitz pressed him.

"Harvey, why does Donna's break up bother you so much?"

Harvey thought before answering. Since he'd started seeing Lipschitz regularly he'd gotten better at not reacting to hard questions with his emotions. The Harvey of six months ago would have snapped at him, insisting that he wasn't bothered, that it was her life and she could date or break up with whoever she wanted. The Harvey of today though, knew he was bothered and, deep down, he knew why.

"It's not the breakup itself," he breathed, "but he hurt her, she's so sad because of him."

"And why does that bother you?" Lipschitz pried carefully.

"Because, she's my friend. She's my," Harvey paused, feeling anxious about where the conversation was heading, despite knowing that Lipschitz more or less already knew what Harvey would say, "everything. And she deserves everything. And -"

"And you love her," Lipschitz said, finishing Harvey's sentence. It wasn't a question.

Harvey tilted his head to one side, making eye contact with the man across the coffee table before speaking.

"Yes," Harvey exhaled. Despite the fact that Lipschitz was one of the few people he'd openly admitted it to, it felt good to say it aloud. It made it feel more real, even if he'd never been able to say it to the one person who needed to hear it. At least not since the one time he tried, and got it all wrong.

"Does she know?"

"It's not that simple."

"Why"

"Because - I've never been able to say it right. Or at the right time."

"Then show her"

"What?"

"You said she's sad, and that you'd do anything to make her feel better. Take this opportunity to _show_ her how much she means to you, how much you care about her, how you'd go out of your way to make her smile. She's hurting and could use a friend; show her you can be that friend, and more."

Harvey sat, thinking about his words.

"But Harvey, don't wait too long to _tell_ her what she means to you. If this Thomas person's negative words had such an effect on her, think of what your positive words could mean to her."

A couple days after that session with Lipschitz, he'd asked her to help him pick out a Christmas present for his mom, and they'd had a great time. He could tell she was still sad, but he saw her shed a little bit of that sadness as they strolled through Hermes, Donna intent on finding the perfect scarf for his mom. A few days later, Donna asked him to help her pick out a bottle of scotch for her sister's husband, and they fell into a routine. She helped him pick new furniture for his living room, he helped her install new knobs on her kitchen cabinets. It wasn't long before Harvey found himself inventing tasks for her to help him with, simply because he wanted to spend time with her. Each time, Harvey witnessed Donna loosen up a bit, melting back into the light, vivacious woman he loved.

They were in such a good place; it was like all the hurt, confusion, words left unsaid, and half-baked admissions of feelings of the past couple of years were forgotten. Replaced instead with laughter, robust conversations about nothing to do with work, and just a smidgen of flirtatious banter. Harvey had never been more sure of his feelings for her; he wanted this. He wanted the Donna that would challenge him professionally and call him on his bullshit in the office, but he also wanted the Donna that would fill his apartment with music and laughter as she baked the rugelach he'd promised to bring to Louis and Sheila's Hanukkah dinner. He wanted everything with her, and he finally wasn't afraid of how much he felt for her.

He reached the bottom of his scotch glass and his eyes wandered back to her letter. He thought back to his recent conversations with Lipschitz and smiled as an idea formulated in his brain. He'd spent the last several weeks showing her that they were friends. It was time to show and _tell_ her how much he loved her.

 _ **~A dog that can go back and forth between Mom and Dad's house~**_

His first instinct, obviously, was to get her a real dog. He had an image of a golden retriever puppy with a big, red bow around its collar running into her office and surprising her. He could see her getting so excited, falling to her knees to greet the puppy, whatever gorgeous dress she had on that day spilling around her in a perfect circle. He smiled at the image - overcome at how just the thought of her happiness made him feel.

Louis though - surprisingly acting as the voice of reason in this situation - convinced him otherwise. He reminded him that new puppies involved a lot of time and effort, and perhaps more importantly, Donna's apartment building didn't allow animals, and did he really want his big, romantic gesture to end with her getting evicted? He suggested a stuffed animal instead, but Harvey immediately dismissed the idea; knowing from experience that stuffed animals were given to kids as a cop out when the adults either couldn't or didn't want to deliver on the real thing.

He racked his brain for a new solution, thinking back to the night he found her list. He learned that she and her sisters had gotten a dog for Christmas that year, Donna telling a story about how the dog never learned her name because she and her older sister couldn't agree so they called her different things until finally it became too confusing and they resorted to just calling her Girl Dog. Surely, there had to be a picture of her somewhere. Given the volume of photos Harvey saw in just the few boxes they'd gone through, he got the impression that the Paulens photo-documented their children's entire existence. Someone had to have a picture somewhere.

One quick phone call to her younger sister and a few days later he was strutting toward her office with what she'd call his Cheshire Cat grin plastered across his face. The photo her sister sent her was taken the Christmas morning when Girl Dog arrived, Donna and her two sisters lying on their stomachs and stacked one on top of another like a totem pole. Donna was beaming from her position in the middle as the puppy reached her front paws up to rest on her sister's back. The picture was framed and wrapped up in a gold box with a red bow - an ode to the puppy that could have been. As he approached her office, he was pleased to find her sitting at her desk. Originally, he'd planned on leaving the gift there for her to find in the morning, but he realized he wanted to see her reaction when she opened it.

He rapped his knuckles on the glass of her open door, and she lifted her head, motioning for him to come in. Wordlessly, he came to stand in front of her desk, hands wrapped around the gift box behind his back.

"Harvey," she said, resting her hands on top of the stack of papers she had been working through, "what can I do for you?"

"Why do you always assume that I come in here to ask for favors?" he asked jokingly, "can't I just come and chat with my favorite COO in the city?" a smile spreading across his face as he spoke the last few words.

"Fifteen years, Harvey," she smirked as she looked him square in the eyes, "I've been working with you for fifteen years."

"Actually," he started, shifting his weight from one foot to another, as he realized he hadn't actually rehearsed what he'd say to her "I came to give you something."

She sighed and looked down at the stack of papers growing in the corner of her desk. "Harvey, if you need help with the Sanderson case, can you ask Katrina? I have a ton of summer associate interviews this week and -" she paused when she noticed that Harvey had moved from his place on the other side of her desk and was now perched on the surface beside her.

"It's not work," he smiled and looked her in the eyes, a feeling of satisfaction growing inside him as he realized he'd caught her off guard, "it's this," he finished as he brought the gold box out from behind his back and set it on the desk in front of her.

Donna looked down at the gift, and then back up at Harvey, trying her best to hide the fact that he'd rendered her temporarily speechless. She did what she always did in situations like this and masked those feelings with sarcasm.

"My birthday is in April, Harvey, and I left the receipt from my Christmas present on your desk last week. What is this?"

She looked up at him, her eyes demanding an answer. She half expected him to crack a joke, half expected him to take the gift away, saying he just wanted to show her how he'd wrapped the scarf she'd picked out for his mom.

"Will you just open it?" Harvey sighed, slightly exasperated, one hand moving from his side to rest on the back of her chair, pushing her forward ever so slightly.

Her hands moved to untie the red bow, and as she lifted the lid of the box, her eyes took in what was inside and her breath caught. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, especially considering who'd given it to her.

She removed the frame from the box and held it in both hands. Her lips pressed together to keep the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes from falling. She moved her index finger to trace over the outline of the dog. Eyes glistening, she looked up at him.

"How?" she breathed.

"Your sisters," he said simply, standing up and moving the hand that had been on the back of her chair to rest on her shoulder. "Merry Christmas."

He walked toward her door and her eyes followed him, before she could form the words to thank him, he turned and spoke again.

"Oh, I added a couple things to your calendar for this week, don't be late."

She smiled, the time for genuine thanks had been quickly replaced with the evergreen desire to poke fun at him.

"You mean your secretary added them," she quipped as a smile spread across his face.

"Don't underestimate me, Donna," he winked at her as he turned on his heels and strutted proudly out of her office.

She watched him walk away until he turned the corner and was out of sight. She took the frame out of the box and set it on her desk next to a picture of her and Rachel, taken while the pair were getting ready for her wedding. As she was collecting the packaging, a small piece of paper fell from the box and onto her desk.

She picked it up to read it, and as she did she felt fresh tears pricking at the backs of her eyes. Just one sentence, but words that, deep down, she knew she had been aching to hear from him for as long as she could remember.

 _You've always had a beautiful smile._

She tucked the note into the corner of the frame so that it was visible and then slumped back in her chair. Harvey, the man notoriously bad at giving gifts of any kind, had just genuinely surprised her with his thoughtfulness. It made her think that maybe, just _maybe_ , the last several weeks they'd spent together were leading them somewhere; a genuinely new normal upon which they could build a solid foundation of more than just friendship. Her breakup with Thomas had been brutal, but it'd happened because deep down she knew - they both knew - that her heart was tethered to someone else, and had been for quite some time. A small feeling of hope began to bubble up inside of her as a smile spread across her face.

But it was Harvey, she sighed, he was always one foot in, one foot out. It may have taken her fifteen years, but she'd finally trained her heart and mind to take his actions when it came to the two of them at face value. Never overthink, never read too deeply, never get too hopeful - never get disappointed.

 _ **~New sheet music for the piano at school~**_

Harvey knew that when Donna was young, she'd loved to play the piano. He knew they'd had a beautiful black baby grand in the living room of her first home and that, when they'd moved after her dad's financial issues, they'd had to leave the piano behind. She'd never said it, but he know that second only to the heartbreak of her parents' divorce was the heartbreak that she'd never again owned a piano.

He'd never heard her play, save for briefly one time when he'd interrupted a date between her and Stephen Huntley, but he'd always wanted to. He had an image of her long, graceful fingers dancing across the keys as she played, a grin spread across her face. He knew it'd be beautiful, knew that he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her watching her play - because it was Donna, and Donna was ravishing.

He wasn't one for hugs, but in this moment he wanted to run into Louis' office, pick him up, and spin him around in circles because, just last week, he'd signed the Juilliard School of Music as a client. A quick phone call later, and he had access to the music library and a practice room reserved for that evening.

He wanted to leave the office ahead of her, so he could meet her there and surprise her. As he was leaving, he poked his head in her office and found her, head down, working through some paperwork. Sensing his presence, she looked up.

"Leaving already?" she smiled at him as she asked.

"I have to make another stop on the way," he lied, "I'll meet you there."

He smiled as he walked away. Because the school was a new client, Donna thought the evening was a routine meeting to go over paperwork and other final details. Harvey would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to catch her off guard for the second time in just as many days.

When Donna arrived at the school, she was surprised to find that Harvey wasn't waiting for her in the lobby, which was standard practice when one arrived before the other at a client meeting. Just as she was about to call him to find out where he was, she saw a text from him come through on the screen of her phone.

 _Down the hall, turn left, second door on the right._

When she opened the door Harvey had directed her to, she didn't find the meeting room she'd expected. Rather, she saw a room with rows upon rows stacked high with boxes and files, similar to the file room at the firm. At the end of the row in front of her, she saw Harvey. He was leaning against the shelves, one foot crossed over the other, a smile spread across his face that was equal parts smug, satisfied, and excited. He started walking towards her and they met in the middle of the aisle.

"Interesting place for a client meeting," she said as she stopped in front of him.

"Oh, we're not here for a client meeting," he said, taking a step closer to her, "this, and the practice room next door are ours for the night."

"And what is _this_ , exactly?" she said, looking at him and gesturing to their surroundings.

"It's the piano music library," he said, as he watched a broad smile spread across her face, "you can take whatever you'd like, and then I want to hear you play."

Again, Donna paused to collect herself. How he had managed to surprise her two days in a row she didn't know, but she certainly didn't mind either. Her fingers started to dance by her sides, growing excited at the fact that'd they soon be trading computer keys for ivory ones.

She looked up at him and smiled, shaking her head slightly and he smiled back.

"How?" she asked.

"How do you think, Donna?" he started, tilting his head to mirror her own, "I'm the best damn closer this City's ever seen."

She laughed, rolled her eyes at him, and gave his shoulder a playful shove before turning to explore the world full of music that was currently hers for the taking.

Nearly half an hour later, they arrived in the practice room, Donna's arms overflowing with stacks of sheet music. When she saw the piano, her breath caught. It had been ages since she'd last played properly, and as she ran her fingers over the keys, she realized how much she'd missed it.

As Donna got herself settled on the piano bench, Harvey took a seat in the chair in the corner. This was her moment, he didn't need to be front and center - he was lucky enough to be able to observe her from a short distance.

Donna began to play and moved from one classical piece to the next. Most, Harvey didn't recognize, but she played a couple jazzier pieces that he did, them having made their way onto one or another of his dad's records.

Harvey sat with his head resting against the wall and his eyes drift closed for a second as he listens to Donna play. He didn't even need to look at her to know she's happy; thoroughly enjoying the moment and lost inside whatever piece of music she's playing. She ended one piece and rolled almost seamlessly into another. He noticed the tempo of the music change, moving from quick staccato to long, low notes. He opened his eyes to see if he can figure out what she's playing based on the music propped up in front of her, but to his surprise, she's playing from memory.

He shifts his position in the chair, moving to the front of it and rests his elbows on either knee. He can tell by the way she's playing that this song means something to her, especially since the notes have been stored perfectly in her memory for all these years. There's a story here and he can't wait to ask her about it when she finishes playing.

When he senses she's nearing the end, he gets up from the chair and takes the couple of steps that bring him to the piano. As she plays the last few notes, she looks up and their eyes lock. Harvey is leaning against the piano, his elbows resting on the surface with his hands clasped in front of him.

"What was that song?" he asks, almost reluctant to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over the room, "it's beautiful."

"Oh," Donna started, breaking eye contact for a second as she looked down at her hands, "it's an old Irish song called Danny Boy." She looked back up at him as she continued, "it was one of my Grandfather's favorite songs. He'd sing it all the time and when I was old enough, he taught me to play it on the piano. The last time I played it was at his funeral, actually. I can't believe I remember it." she looked down at her hands on the piano keys again, a sad smile across her face.

Harvey knew that Donna's Irish heritage was a big part of her childhood but aside from the soda bread she brought into the office every St. Patrick's Day, he didn't know much about it. Wanting to continue the conversation but not wanting to dwell on the sadness of her Grandfather, he pried carefully.

"What's the song about?" he asked.

With the question, he could see Donna relax a bit, and he smiled.

"No one knows for sure really," she started to explain, "some people think it's about a woman sending her lover off to war and hoping he'll return, some think it's about friends saying goodbye as one decides to leave Ireland for America."

"And what do you think?" he asked.

"There's one line that says, 'I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow;' I think it's about unconditional love, that no matter how far we are from our family and the people that love us, there'll always be something that connects us to them. That's what my Grandfather always said."

Harvey exhaled, "Wow, that's some heavy stuff. I thought all Irish songs were upbeat things you could dance around to."

Donna laughed, immediately lifted from the sadness she'd started to slip into.

"You know, most Irish songs are about drinking, funerals, dying during battle, or some combination of the three. They're just sung so fast you don't really know what's going on."

"Fair point," Harvey relented as he begun to rifle through the large stack of sheet music she'd brought in from the library.

"Wow Donna," he quibbed, "is there anything _left_ in the library?"

"Shut up," she deadpanned, but couldn't help but crack a smile as she caught the amused look on his face.

Harvey continued to shift through the sheet music as Donna tapped away nonsensically at the keys. After a couple of seconds, a piece of music caught his eye, and he handed it to her.

"Can you play this one?" he asked, "it was one of my dad's favorites"

"I know," she said, smiling up at him as she settled the music in front of her, "that's why I grabbed it."

Even without the signature harmonica, the opening notes of _The Piano Man_ wash over him, and he smiles. He takes a few steps from the side of the piano until he is standing behind her at the bench. He couldn't help it, he was draw to her and the way she looked playing. Her eyes fluttered closed as her fingers ran across the keys and she was smiling. She was lost in what she was doing, and Harvey felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. In the moment, she was absolutely breathtaking - she was always breathtaking - but right now it was all he could do to not pick her up off the bench, lay her across the top of the piano and kiss her passionately.

As the last notes of the song left the air, Donna looked up and saw Harvey standing behind her. She gestured for him to sit beside her, and she searched the pile of music for a piece she had grabbed, but wasn't sure she'd find the courage to play. As he sat down beside her, though, she realized that words had never been their strong suit, so as she placed the music in front of her, she hoped he'd understand what she was trying to show him.

Harvey sat as Donna played the first notes of the song. The sheet music wasn't titled, but he recognized it immediately. As she continued, he started to sing the words of the song to himself in his head.

 _Oh like a river flows, so surely to the sea_

Harvey moved his arm that was resting idly between them behind her back and rested his hand on the piano bench on the far side of her body.

 _Darling so it goes, some things are meant to be_

Donna felt Harvey's arm shift, and she leaned into it ever so slightly, feeling the slight pressure of his strong arm against her back.

 _Take my hand, take my whole life too_

Harvey smiled as he felt Donna shift her weight and lean in to his arm, their shared body heat radiating between them. He turned to study her as she played; there was tenderness in her eyes and spread across her face. He knew what she was doing, she chose to play this song because she couldn't quite find the words to describe what she was feeling, a concept he was all too familiar with.

 _For I can't help falling in love with you_

As she finished the song, her eyes drifted from the music in front of her to Harvey at her side. He was already looking at her, and there was so much emotion swimming in his eyes she couldn't even begin to decipher it.

The moment was delicate, intimate, their faces were perilously close and he could feel her breath on his lips. It'd be so easy, he thought, to lean in and kiss her, but the moment felt too intimate for that, even. Right now, he just wanted to _be_ with her, be close to her. She all but told him she loved him in song, and he wanted to remember this moment, this feeling, for the rest of his life. Instead, he reached for her hand, which was still resting on the piano keys and brought it to his mouth, lips barely touching it before he lowered it back down to rest on his knee. Eyes still locked on hers, he lifted the hand that was resting on the piano bench behind her back and moved it to her side, pulling her closer to him ever so slightly. As he did, she dropped her head to rest on his shoulder and moved the hand that wasn't already clasped in his across her body to rest on top of his hand holding her own on his knee. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent - sweet florals with just a hint of vanilla - and if it weren't for the steady rhythm of her heart mirroring his own, he'd be sure he was dreaming. Here he was, sitting with his arms around the woman he loved, and he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to ruin the moment by telling her as much, but by the end of the week, he would, and he hoped to God she'd say it back.

They could have sat on that bench for hours, enjoying the feeling of holding one another in comfortable silence as the world - and their complicated past - fell away. They were just two people confessing their love for one another in everything but words and they wanted to enjoy the comfort they found in each other's presence for as long as possible.

All too soon though, Harvey's phone rang; Ray alerting him that he was outside waiting.

"We should go," Harvey breathed, but didn't move from his current position.

"I know," she breathed back, also without moving.

After a couple more seconds, Donna untangled herself from Harvey and stood up. Her one hand was still clasped in his, and as she stood, she pulled him to his feet too.

"Do we -" she started, gesturing to the sheet music spread across the top of the piano.

"No, they told me to leave it."

She looked at him tilting her head slightly to one side. "Are you sure?"

"Yep," he said as he handed her her purse and helped her into her coat, "something about not knowing the proper filing system or something."

She laughed as she felt Harvey's hand move to the small of her back, guiding her out of the room and down the hall.

They sat in comfortable silence on the short ride back to Donna's apartment. At some point during the drive, her hand had found his again. Harvey tried his best not to overthink her action, focusing instead on how right, how comfortable, it felt to be sitting hand and hand with her. When the car pulled up in front of her building, she turned to him. She studied his profile, his defined jawline, for a second before he turned his face to meet hers.

"Thank you for tonight, Harvey," she breathed, "it was perfect."

Her face inched closer to his own, and for one, bright, earth shattering moment, he thought she was moving toward his lips. He let out a breath as he felt her lips brush, not across his own, but his cheek. She lingered there for a second, and he thought about turning his head to meet her, but he didn't, realizing the back of his car with Ray mere inches from them was not exactly the place he wanted his second first kiss with Donna to happen.

 _ **~To like the taste of coffee because that's what adults drink, and maybe a pretty coffee mug to drink it out of~**_

If there was one thing that had changed from the twelve year old who'd written that letter, it was the fact that the Donna of today didn't just like, didn't just love, but needed the taste of coffee to exist. Everyone in the office knew not to deliver her bad news until she'd had at least three cups and that, if you came to ask her for a favor, you did so cup of coffee in hand.

Harvey also knew that he couldn't just show up in her office with a cup of coffee the next day. That felt too normal, too routine. He needed to do something that would if not surpass the previous evening at the piano bench, at least be on par with it.

Luckily, a quick Google search led him to find a new coffee shop that had just opened a couple blocks from the office. It was one of those hipster, environmentally friendly ones that urged patrons to bring their own, reusable mugs. Normally, such a business model would make Harvey roll his eyes, but in this case, it was perfect.

Weeks ago, before he found Donna's Christmas list, he'd been walking through the Bryant Park Christmas Market with his niece and nephew, who'd come to the City to spend a weekend with him. While they were distracted by a booth selling all sorts of Christmas cookies and candies, his attention was drawn to the booth next door, which was selling Shakespeare paraphernalia.

He'd asked the booth attendant to help him pick out something for Donna, seeing as he knew next to nothing about Shakespeare. He knew that she'd likely be buying herself her own Christmas present with his card, but he couldn't help getting her something small, hoping that because it was Shakespeare, and because it was him, she'd appreciate the gesture.

In the end he'd chosen a white mug with a quote from _A Midsummer's Night Dream_ etched around it in a delicate gold cursive font. As he walked to her office in the early hours of the morning to deposit the gift and instructions for later in the day, he mentally gave past Harvey a pat on the back for deciding to go with his gut and buy the mug.

Donna entered her office later that morning and immediately noticed the coffee mug on her desk. As she sat, she was initially disappointed to see that it wasn't already filled with coffee, until she looked closer and saw a small piece of paper with Harvey's distinctive handwriting scrawled across it.

 _11am, corner of 38th and Lex, bring the mug._

She picked up the mug to examine it closely, and smiled as she read what was written on it - that same warm feeling she'd felt while sitting next to Harvey on the piano bench the night before starting to bubble up inside her.

 _Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind._

Just before 11, Donna grabbed her coat, placed the mug in her bag and left her office. As she walked towards the elevators, she glanced towards Harvey's office, but found it empty. She hadn't seen him all day and she'd be lying if she wasn't looking forward to whatever it was that he had planned. She'd always known the soft, thoughtful side of Harvey existed, but to see it so prominently on display had really caught her off guard in the best possible way.

Harvey paced idly back and forth just inside the door of the coffee shop waiting for Donna to arrive. He looked down to check the time on his watch for what was probably the fifth time in the past minute. He was nervous - not because he was spending time with Donna, he was excited about that, actually - but because of what he wanted to talk to her about. He knew that the week was leading up to him confessing all his feelings to her and, if he played his cards right, kissing her - just like the last item on her Christmas list prescribed. But, he knew she'd just ended a pretty serious relationship. He didn't want to push her into anything if she wasn't ready. She was it for him, and he didn't want to risk ruining what he hoped would be the rest of his life by going there too soon. He was hopeful, cautiously confident even, given the intimacy they'd shared at the piano bench the night before, that Donna felt things for him, but he couldn't push her. He wanted her to lean into those feelings because she wanted to, not because she thought he wanted her to.

A flash of red hair outside the shop's window caught his eye and he looked up. He saw Donna moving towards him and smiled at her in greeting.

"Really Harvey, what kind of coffee place makes you bring your own mug?" She sounded exasperated and even rolled her eyes slightly, but he could tell she liked it. It was exactly the type of hole in the wall, charming place that Donna loved.

"I guess it's what the kids want these days," he joked as he moved his hand to the small of her back to guide her to an open table.

As they sat, Harvey put the mug he'd been holding on the table as Donna removed hers from her bag.

Donna laughed as she read what was written on his mug.

 _Remember, boys, no points for second place._

"Seriously?" she smiled as she gestured to the mug.

Harvey replied indignantly, "It's from Top Gun, Donna."

"Mike gave it to you when he left, didn't he?"

"It's my favorite movie."

"So sentimental, does he have a matching one? Should I ask your secretary to make you an appointment to get your hair done together when he's in town next week?"

"Shut up," he said, sheepishly, not wanting to admit that Mike did, in fact, have a matching mug.

"What about yours? Do you like it?"

The tone of the conversation shifted from playful to more serious, as Donna leaned forward and rested her hands on the table. They weren't touching his, but they also weren't _not_ touching them either.

A small smile spread across her face and she looked him in the eyes before answering.

"I do, thank you."

They fell silent as the waitress came to take their order, taking the mugs with her to prepare their drinks.

"How are you, Donna?"

She was surprised by the question - not entirely sure where he was trying to take the conversation.

"I'm - I'm good. Tired, but no more than usual. And busy - trying to get things at the firm wrapped before the holidays and -"

"No, I mean, how are you doing?" He pried delicately, aware that it wasn't the norm for them to talk about their personal lives like this. "Since, you know - since -"

"Since Thomas?"

"Yeah"

"Is this why you're doing all this?" She hated to ask the question, but it was Harvey, he had a habit of doing things to make her feel better and then walking back his intentions when pressed. "The picture, last night, this?"

"Yes - no - I mean, yes, but that's not the only reason -" He stuttered, afraid he'd already said the wrong thing.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Look, you didn't have to tell me things ended with him. I could just tell - you changed, you were so sad, and it broke my heart to see you like that. I've told you before that I think you're remarkable, and I always will, and I just hate that someone was able to make you feel so down on yourself."

Donna looked as though she was searching for the right words to say, so he continued.

"Louis said he said some awful things to you. He wouldn't tell me what they were, but I know they're not true. And if he believes they are, he doesn't deserve you. You deserve someone who recognizes how incredible you are; how intelligent, how powerful, how empathetic, how _beautiful_ you are. Because you are, you're all of those things and so much more, Donna."

"Harvey," she paused for a second, widening her eyes and taking a deep breath to stall the tears that his words had brought to her eyes, "he said things about you, about me and you, and us working together."

Harvey let out a breath. He hadn't really thought about the subject of the arguments that'd led to the end of Donna and Thomas' relationship - hadn't wanted to for fear of getting angry at him all over again - but he wouldn't have guessed he'd be part of them.

She paused, looking down at her hands and fiddling with the rim of her coffee mug, which the waitress had just brought back to the table.

"It was the same shit it always is, he asked if there was anything - had ever been - anything between us. If I got my promotion because of what was between us. I told him no, over and over again, but he didn't believe me."

"Donna, I'm so sorry - "

"He became really controlling, and stopped trusting me. When I was working late, he'd call and ask what I was doing, who I was with. It was incessant, every night, and I just couldn't take it anymore."

"You know I hate that you're the only one who gets shit for our relationship. It's not fair, and it drives me crazy -"

"I know, Harvey," she breathed, looking up at him. "But that's a feminist rant for another day." She finished, as she let out a small, deflated laugh.

"The whole thing made me realize that I'll probably always be alone. Because I know that when someone makes me choose between him and you, I'll always choose you. Because I love my job, and I love the firm, and I love working with you. I don't regret it, but the prospect of being alone for the rest of your life is a hard pill to swallow. I was more sad about that than the breakup itself, I think."

"Donna," he paused, reaching across the table and finally closing the distance between their hands. He looked into her eyes, resisting the urge to reach up and wipe away the stray tear that had fallen down her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"I'll always choose you too," he couldn't help but smile as he spoke those words, elated to see her do the same.

"And I know I haven't always made that clear, but -"

Donna moved her hand from underneath his and placed it on top, her thumb idly stroking the top of his hand.

"Harvey, if you're about to apologize for every mistake you've made over the past 15 years, I'm going to need another cup of coffee."

She rolled her eyes, and met his. His head was tilted slightly to the left, his face wearing the expression he always had when someone made a joke he appreciated, but didn't want to laugh at.

"Seriously, Harvey. We've been through a lot, and we've both made mistakes. I know we're both sorry. I think we'll have the best chance if we start fresh."

"Fresh?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows as he paid the waitress for their coffees.

She laughed as they stood, her hand finding the crook of his elbow as he led them out of the cafe.

"Well, as fresh as we can."

 _ **~Tickets to a Broadway play and fancy dress to wear to the show~**_

"What about the black one with the bow? Bottom left?" Harvey said into the phone as he scrolled through the selection of cocktail dresses on the Neiman Marcus website, Rachel on the other end doing the same.

"Harvey," she laughed "it's a family friendly show, you know, with children. That's a little much."

Harvey pouted and tried to protest, "but Donna would look ho-" he stopped himself, realizing who he was talking to.

On the other end of the phone, Rachel laughed. "You're right, Donna would look hot in that."

"She'd look beautiful in any of these," Harvey replied sheepishly as he continued scrolling, a knowing smile spreading across Rachel's face.

In the end, they decided on a forest green dress with an asymmetrical neckline and a slight v. Harvey loved Donna in green, the color contrasted so well with her fiery hair and brought out the freckles across her chest and down her arms.

"Oh, uh, Rachel?" he started, suddenly feeling embarrassed about what he was about to ask, "I don't know what size to get."

"Don't worry about that," she said, "I'll order it and have it overnighted to the office. I'll send it to Louis so if she sees the box he can just say it's a gift for Sheila."

"Thanks, Rachel," he said, leaning back in his chair feeling good in his decision to involve her in this part of the plan. "Do you -"

"Nope, I've got it," she interrupted, knowing what he was going to ask. "Donna isn't the only one with your credit card information."

Harvey let out an exasperated but amused sigh, "I really need to change banks."

The pair fell silent as Rachel finalized the order and submitted the payment.

"Rachel?"

"Yeah, Harvey?" 

Has she," he paused, building up the courage to ask the question he desperately wanted to know the answer to, "has she said anything to you about all this?"

"She has."

"And?" 

"She's impressed, Harvey. You've really caught her off guard with how thoughtful you've been. She's touched, the night in the piano room, especially, meant a lot to her."

Harvey breathed out a sigh of relief, "does she know I'm doing all this because I want to show her how much I love her?" It felt weird talking about Donna so openly with Rachel, but he also didn't mind. He wanted to know how Donna was feeling and despite the distance, Rachel was still her closest confidant.

"I'm not sure. I think she hopes that's why you're doing it, but she's nervous."

"Why?"

"Because it's you, Harvey. She's afraid of letting you all the way in only for you to say something and then take it back. She's been through a lot this year, and after everything with Thomas, she's afraid of getting hurt again."

"I know, and that's the last thing I want to do. But when it comes to all this, words aren't exactly my strong suit."

"You need to tell her."

"I will."

"And you need to mean it."

"I do."

"Good."

"Thanks Rachel."

"Go get her, Harvey."

The next day, Harvey approached Donna's office with the dress boxed and wrapped nicely, thanks to Gretchen, and tickets to that evening's show of _Matilda_ in his breast pocket. Standing in the doorway, he saw her bent down and focused on a pile of work, smiling when he noticed she was drinking her coffee out of the mug he'd given her. She looked up from the stack of papers in front of her and motioned for him to come in.

"Really Harvey," she smiled as she noticed the box he was holding, "if you keep getting me gifts like this, the other partners might start to think I'm your favorite."

Smiling as he walked toward her desk, he played into her joke, "if you don't want it, I'll go and give it to Louis. I'm sure he'd look ravishing in it."

"That is _not_ what I said," she laughed and rolled her eyes, motioning for him to put the box on her desk in front of her.

She pulled back the bow and lifted the lid, taking in the gorgeous color and cut of the dress. She'd always guessed that Harvey loved when she wore green, and the contents of the box further confirmed that suspicion. She ran her fingers along the soft fabric of the dress and looked up at him, smiling.

"What's this -," she started to ask, but before she could finish, Harvey reached into his pocket and pulled out the tickets, placing them on top of the dress infront of her.

"For this," he said simply.

Donna picked up the tickets and looked up at him in wonder when she saw the name of the show printed on them.

"How did -"

"I know _Matilda_ was your favorite book as a child?"

Donna continued to stare at him, astonished that he'd not only accurately finished his sentence, but also remembered a trivial detail she was sure she'd mentioned only once, years ago.

"Didn't I tell you earlier this week not to underestimate me?" he joked, taking a seat on the arm of one of the chairs across from her.

"Wow," was all she managed to say, completely surprised and taken aback in the best way possible. He'd even managed to get her dress size right, although if she had to guess, she suspected Rachel had probably helped with that.

"So what do you say?" he asked as he rested one ankle on top of his other knee, bringing his hands to rest on his kneecap, "you, me, that dress, tonight?"

"It's a date - I mean, not a date - I'll, yes. Tonight, yup."

He couldn't help but laugh as he watched her trip over her words. He stood and took a couple steps towards her door before turning and smiling at her.

"No Donna, it's date."

 **~My first kiss; from a boy I really like~**

The weather was mild for December, so they decided to walk back to Donna's apartment from the theatre, taking a shortcut through a corner of Central Park. As they walked, Donna's hand found its now familiar place in the crook of Harvey's elbow and she chattered away excitedly about the show. Harvey had never been one for theatre, but he had to admit he'd enjoyed the evening. He'd be hard pressed to explain what the show was actually about though, since he spent the majority of it watching Donna; watching her face come alive at what was happening on stage before her - just like a kid on Christmas morning who'd gotten everything on their list.

As they walked, conversation flowed naturally. They discussed favorite childhood books and movies, absurd things they were able to convince their younger siblings to do as kids, worst family vacations and holiday traditions, and more. They talked about everything, and nothing at the same time. They didn't know it, but they were both thinking about how right, how comfortable, this felt - strolling through Central Park as it was all lit up for Christmas, sharing ridiculous childhood stories with the one person guaranteed to laugh at - or at least appreciate - all of their jokes.

They crossed one of the stone bridges in the park and Donna stopped, pointing out a couple on the path below who, by the looks of it, was about to get engaged. Donna's hand slipped from Harvey's elbow and moved down to grab his own, leaning into him slightly and bringing her other hand across her body to rest on his forearm. They watched the couple below them say yes to the rest of their lives together and identical smiles spread across their faces. They didn't notice that they'd been joined on the bridge by another couple, one fifteen to twenty years their senior. As they turned to continue their walk, the man spoke.

"You two look so happy," he smiled at them, "how long have you been together?"

Without missing a beat, Harvey responded, "15 years."

"Here's to many more," the pair smiled at them before they turned and walked away.

Donna looked up at Harvey, slightly surprised, but not at all disappointed by his response.

"15 years, Harvey?"

"Tell me I'm wrong, Donna."

They started walking again and Donna took a deep breath. She couldn't, she realized, tell Harvey he was wrong. In truth, she knew in her heart of hearts that she'd been his from the second she introduced herself in that bar all those years ago.

They were still hand in and when they reached Donna's apartment. She unlocked the door and took both of his hands in hers, pulling on his arms slightly and leading him over the threshold.

"Come in," she practically whispered.

This time, it wasn't a question.

As they settled on the couch, Harvey prayed to whatever Gods would listen that he play his cards right. The whole week had literally been building up to this moment and he really, _really_ didn't want to mess it up.

"Do you remember, years ago, when we left the DA's office and I asked Jessica if I could come back to the firm? How I told her that I'd thought about where I wanted to be in 10 years and I'd realized it was more important who I was working with?"

She nodded, and he continued.

"At the time, I meant her, but I also meant you. I can't imagine life without you, Donna, and I don't just mean work. I mean life, every part of it. I want you to be the first person I see when I wake up in the morning and the last person I see before I go to sleep at night. I want to raise messed up, emotionally unstable children with you, and I want them to knock me off my feet because they have a wit, intellect, and sense of humor so much like their mother's. It's you Donna, I want the whole damn world with you."

He let out a breath as he finished. Looking over at her, he saw that her eyes were glassy and she was pursing her lips, like she always did when she was trying not to cry. He shifted his weight, closing the inches between them on the couch so that their knees were touching. He reached his hand up to her face and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His hand lingered on her cheek and he lifted her chin gently so that it was level with his. He moved his face towards hers, felt her hot breath on his lips, and finally, _finally,_ closed the space between them.

Donna had heard the words he'd just spoken, saw him move towards her, and yet was surprised when his lips met hers. At first, she stilled, not sure how react. After a couple of seconds, she relaxed into the kiss, smiling against his mouth as she realized whatever this was, wherever they were meant to be was finally free to happen - no college girlfriends, ex-therapsists, convicted felons, married men, or vague half-confessions standing in their way.

She felt him bite her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to deepen this kiss in response. His hand that had been resting on her cheek was now tangled in her hair and his other was on her hip, pulling her closer to him. One of her hands toyed with the short strands of hair at the back of his neck while the other worked quickly to loosen his tie and undo the top buttons of his shirt. Both of his hands had moved to her hips, and before she knew it, she was in his lap. She moved one leg to the far side of his body so she was straddling him as she felt his hands on her back toying with the zipper of her dress.

Just as his hands moved to her butt, pushing up the fabric of her dress around her waist, she pulled away. Her hand came to cup his cheek and she couldn't help but smile at his bemused, and slightly disappointed expression. Before things got too carried away and the night ended where they _both_ knew it would, there were more things they needed to discuss, more things she needed to say to him.

"Where is this coming from, Harvey?"

"I've always felt this way about you," he said simply, moving his hands to wrap loosely around her waist. "I've - just had some help recently putting these feelings into words."

"Lipschitz?"

He nodded.

"Wow, maybe he's the one I should be kissing then."

"Really, Donna, we're going to joke about therapists like that?"

Donna grimaced, realizing what she had said, which made Harvey laugh.

"Oh right, ooof, sorry."

Donna lifted herself from his lap and moved to sit beside him, hooking her feet under her legs on the couch. She felt his arm wrap around her shoulders and cuddled up into his side. He leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of her head, closing his eyes for a second and breathing in her sweet scent.

The pair sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Harvey's free hand had moved across his body and was now clasped in both of Donna's as she played idelly with his fingers.

"I live my life like nothing can get to me," she admitted, breaking the silence,"like I'm always one step ahead, like I'm unflappable. But you, tonight, this whole week, Harvey, I'm flapped."

"Donna -"

"I've known you for forever, and know you probably better than anyone else. I can always tell what you're thinking or feeling. Usually, I'm the one telling _you_ what you're thinking and feeling."

"But when it comes to you and me, you're unpredictable, I can never get a read on it, never know what you're going to do. It used to frustrate and scare me, and that's why, for so long, I closed myself off to it. Wouldn't let you too far in and gave you any easy out when you tried to open that door. Because I didn't want to get hurt, and I didn't want to hurt you - especially since I wouldn't know where to start picking up the pieces from that. But this week showed me that a little bit of unpredictability is a good thing."

"Donna, what are you trying to say?" He asked, hopefully helping her along since it seemed like she was struggling to articulate her feelings.

"I'm saying that everything you said - the mornings, the nights, the whole world - that's what I want too. You're the most frustrating person I've ever met, but you're also the best. You're smart, and passionate, and incredibly loyal, and you make me laugh. When I think about sharing something from my day with someone, you're the first person that comes to mind. It's you Harvey - it's always been you."

He turned to look at her, a huge Cheshire Cat grin spread across his face, reaching all the way to his eyes. He brushed away a stray tear that had fallen from her eyes with the pad of his thumb, and leaned in to press a kiss on her forehead.

"Really?" he asked, looking like a kid in a candy store, which made her smile.

"Yes, really," she laughed as her hand traced his hairline on his forehead,moving down to cup his cheek for a second, before landing on the back of his neck, pulling him closer so his lips landed on hers.

She rose slightly from her position next to him, moving to his lap and hooking one leg on either side of him, facing him. She rolled her hips slightly, closing the space between them. She laced her hands around the back of his neck, forehead coming to rest on his own. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent - he smelled like scotch, weathered leather, and intellect, not that intellect was a smell, but she couldn't find better words to describe the aroma that was so distinctively Harvey.

"Donna?"

"Mmhm?" she murmured against his lips as she kissed him quickly.

"I love you."

"Good," she smiled, tracing his defined jawline with her fingers.

"Harvey?"

"Yes?" a smile to match her own spreading across his face.

"I love you, too."

"Even better," he said, before he leaned in to kiss her, her mouth open and ready to accept his.

As the kiss deepened, he stood, arms still wrapped around her and she hooked her legs around his waist. Lips still locked on hers, he carried her through the apartment to her bedroom, where he dumped her unceremoniously on the bed.

He took a step back and took her in. Here she was, this incredibly brilliant, and incredibly beautiful woman who, despite everything they'd been through, still found it within herself to love him. He couldn't help but smile at the prospect of sharing every part of himself with her, not just in the immediate here in her bedroom, but in the days, weeks, months, and years to come.

 _He finally told her about the letter to Santa he'd found a year later - close to their first anniversary. He showed it to her, and she was so moved; she insisted on framing it and displaying it in their bedroom. Even before she knew though, the events of that week had already started to become cornerstones of sorts to their life together._

 _The coffee shop on 38th and Lex became their coffee shop. Every week began with an 8:30 a.m. coffee date - it was one of the few meetings on their calendars their secretaries were under strict instructions to never touch._

 _Several years later, they were walking through Central Park and Harvey asked her to marry him on that same stone bridge. She said yes, and at their wedding they shared their first dance to "Can't Help Falling In Love."_

 _They read "Matilda" to their daughters over and over, until they were old enough to do so themselves; the well-loved copy eventually losing its cover and needing to be replaced. The Christmas when they were six and ten, they were surprised with a puppy - a golden retriever waiting for them under the tree, wrapped in a big red bow._

 _Donna taught her daughters to play the piano and shared her favorite songs with them. They sat on either side of her at the piano bench and joined her in playing "Danny Boy" at her father's funeral. Years in the future, she'd sit in the front row, daughters again on either side of her, as she listened to her grandchildren play the same song at her husband's._

 _They were married nearly fifty years, and nearly every day they woke up in each other's arms. Finally, all because of a letter to Santa she'd written when she was twelve._


End file.
